


Gravity

by yonastar



Category: Persona 5
Genre: 5th Palace Spoilers, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, yusuke getting the hug he DESERVES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24954721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yonastar/pseuds/yonastar
Summary: "Such psychological trickery is being used here. I... experienced it first-hand for many years."
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Kitagawa Yusuke, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 121





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Atlus can't just put that line in Okumura's palace and not let me Press X to Hug. :(

“Well, that was…” Ryuji gestures with his arm in lieu of a description. The rest of the Phantom Thieves understand anyway. Though they’ve faced admittedly disgusting behavior before, there’s something different about Okumura’s Palace. Perhaps the recent rift between them left them feeling extra vulnerable, or perhaps their past grievances were catching up to them. Either way, Akira is relieved to be out of there. Usually, securing a treasure route leads to a celebratory dinner. Akira takes one searching glance at the worn and troubled faces of his teammates and decides it would be better to leave everyone to their own thoughts.

“Let’s call it a night,” he says.

“What about the calling card?” Makoto asks, though she also looks tired.

Haru gives a small sniffle, lower lip trembling even as her eyes retain a firm resolution. Akira shakes his head. “We’ll work out the details tomorrow.”

No one argues. Futaba looks around then says, “Hey, Haru, you can stay at my house if you want.”

Haru startles. “Oh. I would hate to be a bother.”

Futaba lifts herself onto her tiptoes. “I’ve got Sailor Moon on bluray.”

Haru falters. She suddenly looks more emotional than she had a moment ago. “I… That sounds lovely. Thank you, Futaba-chan.”

“A girls’ night might be fun,” Ann agrees, overcompensating with her smile. “Mind if I join in?”

Futaba shrugs while Haru claps her hands delightedly. Ryuji raises an eyebrow. “Wait. You guys’ are having a,” he lights up, “slumber party? Like with pillow fights and guy talk and shit?”

“What? No!” Ann frowns at him. “Girls don’t really do that, yanno!”

Ryuji takes a step back. “For real?”

Makoto sighs. “Ryuji, just how many American teen sitcoms have you been watching?”

“Mako-chan should join us too,” Haru carries on. “Then it really would be a girls’ night!”

Makoto startles. “H-huh? Me? I, uh, I’d like to, but my sister probably wouldn’t approve. Entrance exams are right around the corner, after all, and… Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Ann rolls her eyes. “Just c’mon. It’ll be fun. Your sister is probably busy with her own work anyways.”

“I suppose it  _ is _ Saturday. All right.”

“Yeah!” Futaba jumps then freezes in mid-pose. “Wait.” She pulls out her phone. The light reflects off her glasses. “I should probably text Sojiro.” 

As they wait for a response, Akira’s attention drifts to Yusuke, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the discussion. He looks off. Pale and solemn. Akira wonders if he’s eaten today, and suddenly gets upset at himself for calling off dinner. He sidles up to Yusuke’s side and lets their hands touch. Yusuke wraps their pinkies together. His expression remains stony, but his shoulders relax. They don’t exchange any words, but that’s normal. Their relationship is steady, comfortable, and a simple touch is enough to express what needs expressed.

“Sojiro said it’s okay!” Futaba announces. “So long as we promise to keep the noise to a minimum.”

“We’ll have to find some way to thank him for his hospitality,” Haru says. “He’s so kind.”

“Akira can pick up a few more shifts at Leblanc. That’ll do it.”

Akira raises an eyebrow. “He will?”

Yusuke gives a tiny smile. “He does make a good coffee.”

Akira’s lips twitch. “Is that a hint? You wanna come to Leblanc with us?”

Morgana pops out of Akira’s bag, blinking sleepily. “Are you gonna make some food, too? I can’t take any more Purina.”

Akira scratches Morgana’s chin. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll cook.”

Ryuji shoves his hands in his pockets. “What the hell? Everyone’s buddying up!”

“You can come to Leblanc if you want, too, Ryuji,” Akira offers. “We’ll have our own slumber party.”

“Better than going home by myself.”

“Enjoy your pillow fights and boy talk!” Ann snickers.

They all take the train together. Yusuke is still lost in his own thoughts so he doesn’t even notice Akira paying for his fare. Worry gnaws at Akira’s gut. He wonders if he should’ve framed it as a date night instead and sent Morgana and Ryuji off to Sojiro’s. But, Yusuke lightens up as he watches a TikTok Ryuji is showing him. A closeup of a speed painting, showing only a line at a time. It keeps Yusuke interested until the camera zooms out to reveal the painting of a crude Sonic the Hedgehog. Confusion knits his eyebrows while Ryuji roars with laughter. “How simplistic,” Yusuke muses. “There is an odd sort of beauty in the imperfections.”

“Dude, seriously?” Ryuji beams.

Yusuke smirks. Akira’s heart thrums. Yusuke is slowly picking up Internet jokes, but his uncanny ability to keep a straight face makes his sense of humor a force to be reckoned with. With Madarame, Yusuke was never able to express himself through words. Only paint. Only framed and signed with Madarame’s own name. Now Yusuke is learning how to employ his art into his life as well, and it’s more beautiful to witness than any gala.

“Wait, wait, watch this one. This is good.” Ryuji taps on his phone, grinning as Yusuke gets a horrified look on his face and some strange cult-level chanting plays. Concerned, Akira glances over Yusuke’s shoulder.

“Are you showing him the possessed Furby video?” Akira accuses, glaring at Ryuji.

“What’s wrong with it?” Yusuke blanches as the screen flashes with disturbing imagery. “Why is staring like that?”

“It’s funny!” Ryuji protests.

“Don’t taint my boyfriend, Sakamoto.”

Morgana grimaces. “He’s an idiot.”

“Oh, totally,” Ann interjects, though she looks fond.

They say their farewells. The ladies depart for Futaba and Sojiro’s house and the gentlemen continue to Leblanc. Ryuji and Yusuke discuss their opinions on various TikToks while Morgana makes annoyed noises on Akira’s shoulder. “Can’t you make them stop?” he begs Akira, who just shrugs.

“You’re back,” is Sojiro’s greeting as Ryuji and Yusuke follow Akira inside. “What’s this?”

“Eh, the girls are havin’ some slumber party.” Ryuji shoves his hands in his pockets. “So we decided to hang out just us guys.”

Sojiro shakes his head. “When I was your age, hanging out with other guys wasn’t exactly my idea of a fun Saturday night.” He puts down his towel and stretches out his lower back with a sigh. “Just don’t cause any trouble, got it? I’m going home. Don’t forget to-”

“Close the shop after you leave,” Akira finishes. “I will.”

Sojiro gives him an authoritative look before taking off his apron and hanging it on the hook. As he puts on his coat, the look dissolves into something softer. “Futaba’s really having a sleepover, huh? Who’d have thought…?” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I mean it: no funny stuff.”

“Goodnight, Boss.” Ever polite, Yusuke gives a small bow. “Thank you for allowing us to stay the night.”

“Jeez… Just don’t oversleep because tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“Of course.”

“Night, Sojiro,” Akira cuts in.

“Later, dude!” Ryuji adds unhelpfully.

Sojiro shakes his head, but leaves. Akira locks the door behind him as Morgana shakes himself out of the bag. “Finally!” he gasps. “Need food!”

“No chance we can have something other than curry, huh?” Ryuji eyes the fridge warily.

Akira snorts as he opens the fridge and surveys its contents. “May I offer you an egg?”

Ryuji hangs his head. “These  _ are  _ trying times, but I guess curry’s fine.”

Making a mental note to pick up a cookbook the next time he’s out, Akira swipes the green apron from the hook and gets to work. Ryuji turns on the TV and falls into a heated conversation with Morgana about whatever late night reality show is on. At least they’re agreeing on something. Yusuke sits quietly, studying the Sayuri with a slight frown. Akira isn’t sure how to approach Yusuke’s despondency, but he saw everyone’s reactions to Okumura’s robotic employees. Besides Haru, it hit Yusuke the hardest.

_ “Such psychological trickery is being used here. I... experienced it first-hand for many years.” _

Akira decides to defect from Sojiro’s recipe tonight, adding his own touch of spices, if only to pull Yusuke out of his own head a bit. “Order up,” he announces when it’s done, divvying all of it between the three of them. He places a smaller plate of bland chicken and rice for Morgana on the counter before planting himself on a stool between Ryuji and Yusuke.

“Thanks, man.” Ryuji lightly punches his shoulder. “I don’t care what Futaba says, you always come through.”

Akira narrows his eyes. “What exactly is Futaba saying about me?”

Ryuji avoids the question by shoveling a large bite into his mouth. As he chews, his face gets steadily redder. “Ho shit,” he hisses, reaching for a glass of water.

Akira blinks down at his own plate. “Is it too spicy?” He takes a bite and immediately chokes. He grabs his water, blinking back sudden tears as the spice burns his mouth. “Oh, God,” he gasps.

Beside him, Yusuke hums happily. “I think it’s good.”

Ryuji and Akira stare at him in utter disbelief. "I thought fire knocked him on his ass," Ryuji mutters under his breath. "How is he eating this stuff?"

After cleaning up, they head to the attic. Ryuji, familiar with the games and DVDs that Akira owns, makes himself comfortable on the couch and fishes out the controller. “This thing is a dinosaur,” he says for the hundredth time, but immediately falls silent as he begins a game. 

Morgana sits on a chair beside him, licking his paws. “You suck at this.”

“No backseating.”

Akira sits on his bed, one knee drawn up. He pats the spot beside him, and Yusuke sits. He’s not as despondent as before, but he’s still tense, staying at the edge of the bed with his hands folded in his lap. Akira lightly rubs Yusuke’s back, trying to express comfort without drawing attention to the issue yet.

They talk, distract themselves from the pressures and concerns mounting, and they take turns playing through a twenty-year-old game. Akira’s stash of snacks are depleted throughout the night, and Ryuji’s request to talk about girls is humored only to be shut down immediately when Morgana mentions Ann. “We could talk about guys instead,” Akira suggests.

Ryuji frowns. “You just wanna gloat.”

“Well, I have a lot to gloat about,” Akira defends, gesturing to Yusuke.

“Man, let’s just put a DVD in and go to sleep.” Ryuji stretches. “I’m exhausted.”

Yusuke lights up. “Ah, I think I left that documentary on Van Gogh here.”

Ryuji cuts off his protests and considers it. “Yeah, that’ll put me to sleep. Fine.”

“I have some spare blankets.” Akira gets up. “The couch is all yours, Ryuji.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Akira flicks him as he passes, but retrieves the crudely folded quilt from a box on the shelves and hands it to him anyways.

“What about you, Morgana?” Ryuji asks. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

Morgana flicks his tail. “Put a pillow on the floor. The first time I tried to sleep on the bed with both of them, Yusuke rolled over on me. I thought I was gonna suffocate.”

Within minutes of turning off the lights and turning on the movie, Ryuji and Morgana are fast asleep. Ryuji’s snores overtake the bland narration of Van Gogh’s life and Morgana’s ears twitch with each loud inhale. Akira is still wide awake, and he knows Yusuke is, too. He taps him on the shoulder and whispers, “Coffee?”

They tiptoe past Ryuji and Morgana as the documentary continues on without them. Leblanc is quiet but comforting with its low lamps and retro atmosphere. Yusuke settles onto a stool like he belongs there, blending seamlessly with the classic aesthetics. As Akira moves behind the counter, he’s hit with a soft realization that Yusuke also blends seamlessly into the rest of his life. It’s a strange feeling. He’s never had someone he felt comfortable enough with to drop all his masks.

When he slides a cup of coffee to Yusuke, he receives an appreciative smile. Akira can see him physically unwind after the first sip. His shoulders relax. His face rests into a serene smile. He cradles the mug in his hands, warming his cold fingers. Akira leans his elbows on the counter with his own cup. He brings their hands together, garnering Yusuke’s attention. “Hey,” he says.

Yusuke chuckles. “Hello.”

Akira pulls away. He drums his fingers on the counter, wondering what the best way was to start. He settles with a direct, “The Palace got pretty tough tonight, huh?”

Yusuke drops his gaze. He looks slightly embarrassed and delays his answer with another sip. “I admit,” he begins slowly, “that the unpleasantness of Okumura’s cognition affected me more than I was prepared for. Hearing how indoctrinated his employees have become, how they can only speak praises for the one who has wronged them so deeply, I was ashamed that it sounded exactly like myself. When we first met.”

“Madarame and Okumura both had Palaces because they were so good at manipulating,” Akira says. “It was the same with Kamoshida. They don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

“Still, I can’t believe how blindly I behaved. Looking back at it all, I feel so foolish.”

“It’s not foolish.” Akira rubs the back of his neck. “They all prey on people’s nature to be kind.”

Yusuke exhales. He sets down his cup and reaches out to thread their fingers together. “I’m glad I have the ability to make a difference, but I… I suppose a part of me wonders how long we can keep this up.”

It’s not what Akira is expecting. He squeezes Yusuke’s fingers. “What do you mean?”

“If not for the Phantom Thieves, I’d still be under Madarame’s thumb, barely living, existing for his benefit. A... robot.” His face falls. “We have been gifted an extraordinary opportunity to change the hearts of criminals. We can help people who truly need it. I cannot ignore that. I won’t ignore that. But, I already feel as though sometimes I’m spread too thin. I can hide it behind my mask, but I feel it within myself. We consistently put ourselves in danger. Now that I  _ have _ something of my own,” he tightens his grip on Akira’s hand, “I want to keep it.”

Akira frowns. “Yusuke.” He rounds the corner to embrace his boyfriend fully. “How long have you been worrying about this?”

Yusuke looks away. “Pretty much since I was allowed to join your group. While I believe this is the right course of action, I can’t help but worry.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Akira whispers.

“You’re on probation,” Yusuke mutters. “The police can absolutely take you away.”

“You’re worrying about things that haven’t happened,” Akira reasons, keeping his tone soft.

Yusuke raises his head off of Akira’s shoulder, pulling away with a frown. “But is it really so unrealistic of a concern?”

“I… guess not,” he concedes. It would be hypocritical of him to lecture Yusuke about worrying over his safety while he spends so many hours agonizing over battle preparations, stressing over whether he’ll make the wrong call, or obsessing over the ominous warnings from the Velvet Room. “No, it’s perfectly normal to worry about the future. We can’t control it, but I’m prepared to face it. Together.” He smiles sheepishly. “I have something I want to keep, too, you know.”

“Ah.” Yusuke closes his eyes. “I see. We’ll face it together.” He opens his eyes and regards Akira with adoration. “Yes. I can do that.”

He looks so earnest that Akira pulls him into another hug, adding a kiss to Yusuke’s cheek for good measure. “You know, most people our age are worrying about what universities they’ll apply for, not whether they’ll end up in juvie.”

Yusuke chuckles. “University is a path too beaten for us, I think.”

“Maybe,” Akira laughs. “In any case, it’d be tough finding a school willing to overlook an assault charge.”

Yusuke pulls back to cross his arms with a dark look directed towards nothing in particular. “How I wish we knew who it was that framed you. If anyone’s heart needs to change, it’s his.”

“Yeah.” Akira shrugs. “But it’s okay. I’ve made my peace with it, and I know I’m innocent.”

Yusuke hums. “It certainly adds a bit of surprise when I tell people that my boyfriend has a record.”

“You tell people about me?”

“Should I not be?”

Akira grins. “By all means, tell whoever you want.”

Yusuke raises an eyebrow. “Do you tell people about me?”

He has to think about that for a moment. He doesn’t really tell people much of anything. He’s the wallflower, the leader, but he’s rarely an active participant in conversations. He’s more comfortable going with the flow and letting other people enjoy themselves. But he still communicates, in his own ways. His actions have led many of his acquaintances to the conclusion that he’s dating someone. Buying flowers after work, asking Ohaya about his love life’s future, ordering a takeout meal after dinner with Kasumi, running in to buy paints or chocolates while debating with Akechi, sneaking text messages with a silly grin on his face while helping Sojiro at Leblanc, and not-so-subtly asking Hifumi questions about Kosei High and Yusuke. Akira has never hid anything, per se, but he’s also never outright told anyone beyond the Phantom Thieves. People seem to piece it together on their own.  “Yeah,” he says softly. “The people that matter seem to figure it out, anyways.”

Yusuke nods then his expression becomes thoughtful. He holds up his fingers, framing Akira as he takes another sip of coffee. “You should just open your own coffee shop,” he says, tone light but serious. “Somewhere new.”

Akira snorts. “Okay. What would I call it?”

“What about Arsène?”

“The Velvet Brew.”

“The Phantom Bean.”

Akira laughs. “You’d have to decorate it. Maybe paint a few pieces. Right on the walls.”

“Me? You’d really want that?”

He leans his elbows against the counter. “Yeah. Maybe we could move the Sayuri there. Somewhere new, like you said. Somewhere people don’t know about Madarame or the Phantom Thieves. And they can see it for what it really is.” He pauses. “What we really are.”

Yusuke hugs himself, leaning forward with a soft smile. His hair falls in front of his face. “This almost sounds like a promise.”

Akira bumps their knees together. “I don’t really know what I’ll do after high school, but I can promise that every time I think about it… you’re there.”

Yusuke falls silent, eyes closed. Akira lets them both process it. Besides, he’s long since learned that with a bit of patience, Yusuke always, always comes through. “Together,” he repeats, breaking into a smile that shoots right to Akira’s heart. “I think _that's_ what I would like to experience first-hand for many years to come.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yusuke: *is sad*  
> Akiren/me: Not on my watch! NOT on MY WATCH!!!


End file.
